


And I Threw Away The Key

by torakowalski



Series: AU Prompts [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Early Days, First Time, M/M, Prompt Fic, tipsy makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re Coulson?” the man asks, when he realises Phil’s looking at him.  He pushes away from the table, a little unsteady, and drifts closer.  “You are.  You’re Coulson.  You’re always in my ear.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Threw Away The Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxxcub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxcub/gifts).



> For akafoxxcub who asked for C/C 'meeting at a party while drunk'

“Another?” Jasper asks. He shouldn’t look so surprised; he’s manned the bar at the past six SHIELD holiday parties, Phil can’t be the only coworker he’s watched get himself drunk.

“Another,” Phil agrees. “And don’t water it down, this time.”

“As it I would,” Jasper says, pouring a beer into a solo cup. Phil’s not paying attention to him, though, he’s looking at the guy leaning against the drink’s table, who went suddenly, deliberately still at the sound of Phil’s voice.

“You’re Coulson?” he asks, when he realises Phil’s looking at him. He pushes away from the table, a little unsteady, and drifts closer. “You are. You’re Coulson. You’re always in my ear.”

Phil blames the beer for how easily he smiles. “Agent Barton?”

“Yeah, yes.” Barton nods eagerly, then curses, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I was gonna be sober, when we met. I was definitely going to be sober.”

Phil takes his beer from Jasper without looking then holds out his hand for another. Jasper mutters something and puts a second cup in Phil’s hand.

“Here,” Phil says, handing it to Barton. “I said I’d buy you a drink.”

Barton blinks in confusion, then grins. His smile lights up his face, which was an excellent face to start with. “The Cairo mission?” he asks. “You said you’d buy me a whole damn bar, if I got out of there without getting shot.”

“You got shot in the shoulder,” Phil reminds him. “So you only get the one drink.”

Barton’s lips curl around the rim of his cup. It’s distracting. “You’re mean,” he says, and looks up at Phil from under dark blond eyelashes.

“He’s also blocking the line,” Jasper says. “Move the hell along, both of you. You can flirt anywhere else, just not in front of me.”

If Phil hadn’t been drinking since mid-afternoon, he’d be very, very embarrassed now. But he has, so all he feels is warmly confident. “Would you like to go flirt somewhere else?” he asks Barton.

“Yes, please,” Barton says, fast enough that Phil knows he hasn’t misread the signs. 

They find a quiet corner, away from their coworkers’ shambolic attempts at dancing, and Barton drops into a chair, stretching his legs out, and sneaking glances at Phil in between gulps of his beer.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Phil says. He doesn’t mind admitting that he thought about. “Weren’t you in Valletta?”

“Got back early,” Barton says. He grins at Phil. “I was hoping you’d be here, but then I arrived and realised I had no idea what you looked like. Stupid, huh?”

“No,” Phil says. “Disappointed with the reality?”

Barton laughs. “No way. I like the suit. Is that a regular thing or just for parties?”

“It’s a regular thing,” Phil says. The idea that he had time to change before coming here is laughable.

“I like it,” Barton says again.

“I like - ” Phil starts, then stops, not sure what to say. He does like Barton’s soft-looking purple t-shirt, his thigh-hugging jeans, but saying so might take them from innocuous flirting to sexual harassment. “You.”

They’ve been working ops together for six months now, and Barton has always been fascinating over comms, but they’ve never been in the same place at the same time. He’s even more captivating in person; Phil can’t take his eyes off him.

It’s the right thing to say; Barton lights up then looks embarrassed at being so pleased. 

“How long are you here for?” Phil asks.

“Tonight,” Barton says. “Maybe tomorrow morning, if I can swing it.”

Phil frowns. Agents don’t get swung from one mission straight into a next, unless there’s a crisis, and there’s no crisis at the moment. Unless. “So when you said you were done in Malta?”

“I lied,” Barton admits. He doesn’t look ashamed, just slightly wary about Phil’s reaction. “Natasha’s holding the fort. I just… I had to come meet you.”

“You took a twelve hour flight just to meet me?” Phil asks.

Barton ducks his head, doesn’t look up this time, so Phil knows it’s genuine embarrassment, not artfully crafted innocence. “Apparently I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

“Who says?” Phil asks. His heart is beating fast. He’d thought he had a harmless crush; he hadn’t realised how much this would mean to him.

“Everyone.” Barton looks up then, cheeks pink but he’s not shy, he’s still every inch Phil’s most super competent sniper. 

Phil looks around the room. There are too many people, and even tipsy, he can’t take that risk. “I can’t kiss you here,” he says. 

Barton’s eyes widen. “Men’s room?” he asks.

“My place,” Phil says.

Barton stands up so quickly that he trips over his chair leg, but that’s okay, that’s fine, because Phil stood too and all that happens is that Barton’s chest ends up pressed against Phil’s chest, his breath warm and fast in Phil’s ear.

“I have an office here,” Phil says, all his good intentions flying out the window.

“Yes,” Barton says. “Yes, better.”

They make it to the corridor outside Phil’s office, which Phil thinks is pretty good going. Then Barton makes a soft noise like he’s surrendering and spins Phil around.

“We’re nearly there,” Phil says, but he doesn’t object. He pulls Barton in closer by the front of his t-shirt, lets Barton pin him to the wall.

“Is this okay? Please say this is okay,” Barton mumbles, lips inches from Phil’s. He smells of beer and of shampoo, as though he took the time to shower before coming here on the off chance of meeting Phil.

Phil puts a hand on the back of Barton’s neck and pulls him forward. They’re the same height; Phil has largely kissed men who are taller than him, but this is better, he likes this more. Barton kisses him hard, focused, but without any tongue, as though he’s working his way up to it.

Phil slides his fingers from Barton’s neck into his hair, and Barton moans a little, so Phil twists a few strands around his fingers, while they kiss.

Barton shudders, shifting closer and getting his arms around Phil, as though having his hair pulled was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him. Phil smiles, satisfied, and licks Barton’s bottom lip.

“You know, this isn’t fair, someone should have warned me how hot you are,” Barton says, all in one breath, before leaning back into Phil, kissing him desperately.

Phil isn’t new at this; he knows the signs of a guy who’s accidentally taken control and wants it taken away from him. He spins them, slamming Barton’s back into the door, and licking into Barton’s mouth, when he gasps and arches forward into Phil.

Barton wraps both arms around Phil’s neck, their bodies pressed together from chest to knee. Barton’s jeans are too thick for Phil to be able to tell if he’s as turned on as Phil is, but the way his hips are shifting is a pretty good clue.

“There’s a couch in my office,” Phil says. He won’t push, they’ll only do what Barton is comfortable with, but there’s no harm in offering. 

Barton leans his head on Phil’s shoulder and starts sucking on the side of his throat. It’s above Phil’s collar, Phil really should object, but he doesn’t want to. “Yes, please,” Barton says, breathing the words over Phil’s newly-damp skin.

Phil keeps one hand in Barton’s hair, since they both seem to like it there, and slides his free hand down Barton’s back, tracing the curve of Barton’s ass with his knuckles. He has to take a moment, just to wonder at how very lucky he’s getting, before he reaches back and they stumble through his open office door.


End file.
